


We Came Out on Top

by flonkertons



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Minor Raven Reyes/Kyle Wick, Trivia team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flonkertons/pseuds/flonkertons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How can you guys be all like <i>this</i> and then be at each other’s throats during trivia night?”<br/>“Because it’s <i>trivia night</i>,” both Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, sharing the same <i>why don’t you get it</i> tone.</p>
<p>Bellamy, Clarke, and the trivia night rivalries only they care about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Came Out on Top

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago? A month ago? I said that I really wanted a trivia AU for Bellamy/Clarke and I didn't really think I would write it until I started writing it. My weird focus on ridiculous, niche AUs continue! And this time with just 11K!!! The word count is really my proudest accomplishment of this fic. I hope you like it!!!!

Bellamy Blake was a dirty, lying cheater and she wasn't going to let him get away with it.

" _Objection_!"

"This isn't a courtroom, Clarke."

She ignored him, turning to Rick, the moderator, with her best innocent, _be on my side_ eyes. "He's consulting with an audience member about the question and that's definitely against the rules –"

Bellamy scoffed loudly, turning away from the girl he had been talking to and facing Clarke. "I wasn't asking her for the answer! I don't need to ask someone for an answer I already know, which is _Iago_ , by the way. I know my Shakespeare."

"Oh, and we're just supposed to believe that? I seem to recall you got that question about The Tempest wrong last week so forgive me if I'm skeptical on how accurate that statement is."

"That question was poorly worded and you know it!" Bellamy yelled at her indignantly. Clarke shrugged, crossing her arms.

"I had no trouble understanding it and neither did any other team."

"Ever heard of _hindsight_? Seems like you're benefiting from it right now."

"Stop distracting us from your crime here!"

"The only crime here is your baseless accusations!" He threw back at her and she went to grab for something to actually throw at him, her hand actually around the buzzer and ready to go when Raven kicked her.

"Can't you pick a fight with him later? We're so close to getting out of here."

"You didn't have to come –"

"Free beer, though," Monty interjected, leaning back in his chair. He was making eyes at Miller, who's on Bellamy's team and therefore, technically, the enemy, but Clarke had a soft spot for Monty so she didn't say anything. (But, seriously, the enemy.)

"Am I off the hook now, judge?" Bellamy's sarcastic voice rang out, clearly directed at her, although he was looking at Rick, who looked both exasperated and bored at the same time. She felt a little bad for him since this was hardly the first time that they've interrupted a game like this but look, Bellamy's already won the last two games and she couldn't fall behind now. The scoreboard hung up behind the counter was embarrassing enough.

"Let's not do this again, Blake," he said, and Clarke felt a wave of triumph. He cut his eyes at her next, "And Griffin. I'm calling it a game, congratulations to _Bellamy Blake Must Die_." She was going to fight the decision, since it wasn't _that_ fair and she supported fair games, but then she caught Bellamy's scowl and she cheered instead, exchanging high fives with Monty and forcing Raven to throw her hands up too. (Honestly, her teammates were so unsupportive, minus the times Monty sometimes was. Raven never liked being dragged to trivia night at the Dropship and Wick clearly only came for Raven. But at least they all had some sort of competitive streak and knew enough to win the games.)

Said teammates abandoned her as soon as Rick declared the game in favor of Clarke's team, but she sat back and watched him change the scoreboard to _BLAKE 15 GRIFFIN 14_. She would prefer it if she had the 15, but there was next week to tie, and the week after to gain the advantage again.

Bellamy appeared by her side a second later, nudging her shoulder and staring down at her petulantly. "She was trying to get my number, not advising me on the answer."

"You don't have to keep up the lie, Bellamy, I've already won," she said sweetly, returning a scowl back to his face.

" _This_ week."

"And the next and the next –"

"And you call me cocky."

"If the shoe fits."

"It fits you more –"

"Hi?" A new voice interrupted their useless argument and Clarke peered around Bellamy to find the girl he'd been talking to looking at the two of them expectantly.

"Hi," Clarke said, her eyes flickering back to meet Bellamy's.

"I was wondering if we could continue our conversation earlier?" Nameless girl continued, eyes on the Bellamy in question. Clarke looked back at him too, found a hesitance on his face.

"Oh, uh," he started smoothly. "Rita, you see –"

"Are you two dating?" Rita cut in, still in that expectant, pointed tone. Clarke raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Bellamy said, fervently, squeezing her shoulder in a grip that was less gentle and more _play along please and I'll owe you_ painful. She gritted her teeth, cursed Bellamy Blake in her head, but nodded stiffly. Rita shrugged then, rolling her eyes at Bellamy, and walked away. Clarke stood up instantly, fixing him with her glare.

"We are not dating," she said to him because it was true. Unless the weekly trivia nights where they competed against each other were a weird kind of date that she didn't know she was on, she was _pretty sure_ he had never asked her out or vice versa and there was no dating of any kind going on.

Bellamy said easily, breezing past her glare, "I owe you one." She rolled her eyes and accepted it, because she'd be stupid to pass that future favor up.

"Who even picks up girls at trivia games?" She asked as they made their way to their friends in a booth near the back. They had already started cashing in on the free beers that came along with participating in trivia night (the only way she could ever convince them to do it with her).

Bellamy gave her a flat look. "Uh, you? Lexa?"

She waved him off. "I _meant_ girls not also doing trivia night. Lexa was a competitor. That was different."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't pick up on the distinction," he said. "You want that seat?" She nodded, slipping into the end of the booth as Bellamy went to grab a chair from another table.

"Our ruthless team leaders return!" Miller shouted, reaching across the table to slap at Bellamy's arm. He didn't reach, ended up bumping his knee against the table, and fell back against the seat with a loud curse. When Clarke had met Miller two years ago as the aloof guy in a beanie on the new team, she had never thought he'd be as loud as he really was, especially when he was drunk. Then again, two years ago, she and Bellamy had also proclaimed themselves enemies because they each traded off victories during weekly trivia night. They were still enemies during the hour they played, but outside that hour, they were best friends. (And it only took a chance teaming up, realizing they worked really well together, bumping into him at his job, and deciding that competing against each other was really, really fun, rather than really, really aggravating to change their minds.)

"Who let him drink this much already?" Bellamy asked, propping his legs up in her lap. She knocked them off and then propped her legs up in _his_ lap. He didn't knock them away, and she counted it as a victory.

"We all need a drink after being forced to sit through your trivia pissing contests," Raven said, holding up her glass in a mock toast.

"We don't force you to do this, you know," Bellamy said, quite logically in Clarke's opinion. It was what she had said every week but was always countered with, "Free beer!"

"I don't think you understand the appeal of _free beer_ ," Monty stressed, proving their predictability. "We're not all related to you like Octavia and can beg off."

"She didn't beg off," Bellamy explained, putting 'beg off' in air quotes. "She said, _I don't think I'm in the mood for a dumb trivia thing tonight, but hope you win, actually wait if Clarke wins, that'll be funnier so maybe she should_ so I left her and came here."

"You know she's on a date right now, right?" Clarke said, making grabby hands for the pitcher. Monty handed it to her with amusement across his face.

Bellamy tossed an annoyed look at her. She smiled back. "Yes, Clarke, thanks for reminding me. I had done really well in forgetting that fact."

"Always," Clarke said cheerfully, after taking a long gulp of beer. She strained to reach for some peanuts from her distant position, only to be foiled by Bellamy grabbing the plate and was about to kick him when he placed it in front of her.

"Oh right, the elusive boyfriend," Monty said, and Clarke could tell it was just to piss off Bellamy – though in a friendly, teasing way. He always got so uptight when he was grumpy and it was fun to watch. As always, there was that little tick in his jaw as he pursed his lips and tried to act like he wasn't bothered. Clarke always knew when he was bothered because somewhere down the line of trivia rivals to best friends, she had learned his major tells.

"Boyfriend is a strong word." Bellamy jiggled his leg and ordinarily, she wouldn't care but her feet were still in his lap and this wasn't very comfortable now.

"Lay off, guys," she warned and somehow, it worked and they listened. "Maya, how'd your big pitch go?" Everyone latched onto the change in subject because Maya was sweet and quiet and didn't seem like a good fit for the aggressive trivia games, but Bellamy had sworn that he knew what he was doing when he recruited her and it turned out, she was aces at anything science. Clarke would be annoyed that she lost that advantage in the competition with him if Maya wasn't so nice to them.

Bellamy's leg stopped bouncing and he shot her a small, grateful smile. She pressed her knee gently against his stomach in return.

 

***

 

They didn't let their trivia grudges affect their friendship, ever since they had realized it was petty and kind of stupid to do so. Of course, this change had only occurred after nearly getting kicked out of a diner one late night, where she had been doing some calculus homework and he had been attempting to finish a paper, and both things had been pushed to the wayside as they started arguing about who really knew the origins of the Jehovah's Witnesses.

But just because they never talked about it didn't mean Clarke didn't keep track on the dry erase board stuck on the refrigerator at her and Raven's. She gleefully changed the score on her side, humming a little as she did so. When she turned around, Raven was leaning against the kitchen counter with a very unimpressed look.

"What?" She asked, already defensive. Clarke already knew what she was going to say.

"Can't you just jump him already?"

Clarke crossed her arms; Raven followed suit but that was more to intimidate her. "It's not like that."

Raven sighed dramatically and tossed a towel at her. It hit her hair, then dropped pathetically to the floor. "So you're just going to use trivia night as foreplay until some point in an unforeseen future?"

"Um, you have no room to talk." Clarke had _seen_ things that she wished she never had to see and if her and Bellamy were channeling some sexual tension they may or may not have into trivia games, then Raven should reassess her and Wick's weird flirting too. Speaking of, "Where is he anyways?"

"He's got some meeting or whatever at like 6 AM, I don't know, I didn't really listen."

"That's nice."

"Whatever. You're stuck with me tonight."

"I have an 8 AM shift tomorrow," she said regretfully. Raven scrunched her face at her in disapproval. "Sorry! Yell at my boss."

"I just might," she said, and Clarke didn't doubt that. She had long stopped doubting that Raven would do anything.

Clarke hugged her and Raven made noises of discomfort, but they were for show. "Raincheck?"

"Geez," she said while patting Clarke on the back slowly. "What do I have to do around here to get some Clarke time? Actually like trivia?" Clarke pinched her arm. "Hey. Go to bed and stop hurting me."

"You change your tune so quickly."

"Only when my life is in danger."

Clarke laughed as she let go, grabbing a glass of water to take with her to her room. She ignored Raven's cooing comments about dreaming of Bellamy the whole time.

(Tell Raven Reyes you dreamt about someone once and she never lets it go.)

 

***

 

She had stumbled into trivia night by accident. The bar she was supposed to be meet some of her coworkers at was not The Dropship, but all they had told her was "find the one on 12th Street" without also informing her that there were two bars on that street. Clarke had walked into the other one and somehow, got roped into joining one of the teams despite making all sorts of excuses to get out of it. (To be fair, she hadn't tried _hard_ ; she really had no desire to join her coworkers for a night out. Once she picked up on the fact that she was definitely in the wrong place, she just latched on the reason to not go.)

It was just fun at first but then they had won and that was amazing.

After finding out that trivia nights happened every Wednesday night, she decided to sign up herself and that was how _Clarke Made Us Do This_ was created. She had wanted "Clarke's Angels" or "Trivia League" but she was met with a round of boos and jeers. ("It was just a _suggestion_." "Just let us pick the name. At least give us this.")

She encountered Bellamy two weeks later when his team ( _Julius Caesar Deserved Better_ ; she rolled her eyes, so he was one of those people) destroyed theirs and then it stopped being just a fun thing to do and turned into a thing to prove, especially when Bellamy sauntered (sauntered!) up to her, introduced himself as the reigning trivia champ, and said she had potential. _Potential_ , like he was the ultimate judge on it. (She decided then and there that she would show him that she had way more "potential" than he did.)

The Blake/Griffin trivia rivalry was born that night.

But somewhere along the line, they became friends.

 

***

 

_Team A_

_Team A+_

_Bellamy Blake know NOTHING about history_

_Clarke Griffin sucks at ping pong!_

_Bellamy Blake can't make chili!!!!!_

_Clarke Griffin WISHES she could make chili as great as I do_

 

***

 

"How does this place stay in business?"

"Contrary to your persistent belief, we do get a lot of customers. They're just... never around when you're here. Wait, are you scaring them off?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, leaning across the counter to smack his arm. "Shouldn't lunch time be prime time for soup and sandwiches?"

"Not from my experience and I'm the one who works here," Bellamy answered, affixing a lid onto the cup of soup he was making for an order. Great Soup! (a name Bellamy loved and Clarke loved to laugh at) was this tiny place downtown that entertained very few people from what Clarke observed every day, but Bellamy always assured her that his boss said there was nothing to worry about. Apparently, college kids liked their soup later at night.

"Maybe I should stop by at a different time and see if you're really telling the truth." She liked to stop by for lunch every day because it was right by the Boys and Girls Club she worked at and Bellamy always gave her a discount. The perks of being best friends with one of the only employees.

"Fine by me, but be ready to swallow your words," he said, finally finishing the order for the old lady waiting at a corner table. Bellamy smiled kindly at her, handed her the bag, and wished her well. He always turned on the charm with the older customers. It was really cute.

He turned his attention back on her. "How was work?"

"One of the kids drew a picture of me today," she told him and fished through her bag to find it. Working with preschoolers in the Club's art program was sometimes awful and exhausting, but then one of them would do something cute like that and she loved it all over again.

"This is an incredible likeness," he mused and she laughed.

"Yeah, that is exactly what my hair looks like."

"Well, it does look like that when you've just woken up."

"I brush my hair before work!" She protested as he dodged her slap. He was the worst sometimes.

"Then these kids are just really perceptive."

She snatched the drawing back from him and stuffed it back into her bag before huffing loudly and jumping down from her chair. She ducked under the divider to get behind the counter and poked Bellamy in the chest before peering around him as if he was withholding her food from her. "Stop being mean to me. Where's my soup anyways?"

Bellamy laughed and steered her back towards the kitchen, stopping her just short of the door. "You need to stop being that comfortable in just waltzing back here –"

"You let me!"

"I'll deny if it anyone complains. Anyways, Fox is making it right now. You're impatient today."

She grabbed a cookie from the display case and it was fortunately, one of the more recently baked ones. A few months ago, Bellamy would've tried to stop her from taking food like that and told her to get back on the other side, but he had learned that it was never going to stop her and even his elusive boss didn't care. "Organizing a mock art show is a lot harder than you'd think." She really regretted taking Wallace's class. It had sounded interesting, but it was a lot more work than she had hoped.

"Need any help?" Bellamy offered and she shook her head because it was a nice offer, but his interests and specialty were not in this field.

"What I _need_ is my soup," she said brightly as Fox came out with a container of the daily special, a chicken tortilla soup that she loved.

"I think you're only friends with me to get free soup out of it," Bellamy said, handing her a spoon. She took it gratefully and tasted her soup too quickly, burning her tongue in the process. "Hey, blow on it first. You're ridiculous."

She mumbled something incomprehensible as she bit on her tongue to soothe it. It never worked, but she always did it. "I'm not a baby, Bellamy."

"You just burned your tongue."

"Adults do that too!"

"Just eat your soup carefully," he admonished, flicking her nose. She scrunched it in response.

"I _am_ ," she asserted. "And I'm not friends with you to get free soup. I'm friends with you to crush you in trivia night. And also you're nice to talk to, I guess. Plus you're kinda not bad looking and can charm us out of trouble." She was lying through her teeth on the last bit; he was _definitely_ not bad looking even with his unkempt hair and the ridiculous Great Soup! apron he had _ordered by himself_.

"I do love it when people are friends with me because I'm nice to talk to, _'I guess'_ ," he deadpanned, but she spotted a hint of pink color on his cheeks. He was so bad with compliments.

"You can count on me," she said, then handed him her soup. Lifting herself up to sit on the counter, she reached out for the soup again, but he just smirked and took a spoonful for himself. He was the worst all the time. Eventually, after she tried kicking him without spilling the soup, threatening to give him a bad review on Yelp, and pulling the I'll go to your boss card, he returned the soup and she ate the rest of it while narrowing her eyes at him. He went about his business, making a big fuss about how she was getting in the way but made no move to disturb her familiar place on the counter.

"You coming over tonight?" He asked later, when she was packing up to go.

She checked her mental schedule. "I'm gonna work on some things until 5, then I promised Raven we'd have dinner together, but around 9?"

"Great. Octavia's coming around too. She's bringing Lincoln."

"The boyfriend?" She said with a gasp.

"Yep," he grumbled. "So come around and save me, okay?"

"I will make sure no one dies."

"That's what you're best at."

"At least you know."

 

***

 

When Clarke told Raven that Octavia would be introducing Lincoln to Bellamy, she jumped up and called shotgun, yelling at Clarke to hurry so that they wouldn't "miss the show." She _tried_ telling Raven that Bellamy knew better by now but Raven didn't want to chance it.

Raven pushed past Miller and went straight into the kitchen once he opened the door and Clarke shook her head apologetically at him. "Sorry, she's really invested in a potential Blake fight," she explained as she hung up her coat. "She's trying to find popcorn and everything."

"Sorry to let her down," Bellamy said from the couch, a controller in his hands. His eyes were trained on the TV as he spoke. Lincoln sat on the floor nearby, holding the other controller. Judging by Bellamy's next curses, Lincoln was winning. "We get along fine." Clarke beamed at him proudly. She knew he could do it.

Raven returned from the kitchen, holding a bag of chips and pouting. "You ruin all the fun, Blake."

"Only yours," he said petulantly. Sometimes, it was hard to remember they had actually slept together once a long time ago. Clarke wasn't sure if _they_ remembered that.

"He was very nice," Octavia piped in, appearing from the bathroom and wearing a smile that signaled her approval as well. "Maybe too nice? But I'll take it."

"How was I too nice? And why would that be bad?" Bellamy tore his eyes away from the screen and frowned. Clarke plopped down next to him and rubbed his back soothingly.

" _I'm_ very proud of you," she said and he grumbled some more, but after he lost the game and tossed the controller into Miller's awaiting hands, he settled back against the couch, pulling her along with him. Automatically, she curled up against his side and he lifted his arm to accommodate the position.

"How's the preparation for the show coming along?"

She sighed, pressing her face into his chest. "It's coming, I guess. I'll just be glad when it's over."

"I bet," he said, stroking her back. "When's the show again? I'll make sure my schedule is free."

"End of finals week, but you don't have –"

"Clarke. I'm going to come."

She nodded, looking up at him, fighting the urge to press her pinky in the dimple on his chin because it was so close to her. "Okay, I do need a friendly face."

"And I'm the friendliest," he confirmed and she laughed.

"You guys are the grossest," Octavia commented from her perch on the armchair. She was making a face at them that Clarke returned. "How can you guys be all like _this_ –" She waved a hand in their direction, "And then be at each other's throats during trivia night?"

"Because it's _trivia night_ ," both Bellamy and Clarke said at the same time, sharing the same _why don't you get it_ tone. It was _simple_ , really.

"Just be glad the championship is coming up soon and then we can be free of this for a while," Miller said, world weary and above it all in the same note.

"Oh god, I forgot about that," Raven said, horrified. "They're going to be insufferable."

"We're right here," Clarke pointed out, mildly insulted. She looked over at Bellamy to see if he felt the same, but he just shrugged at her. _We are kinda insufferable then_ , he was saying. She thought about disowning him. "Look, they took away our victory from us last year and we have to get revenge." Bellamy snickered beside her and she elbowed him in the stomach.

"Can we just table revenge talk for until it's actually the championship?" Raven snatched the controller from Miller and took over.

"Yes, please!" Octavia said, clapping her hands together. "New topic now."

Bellamy spoke into her hair. "You know I'm going to win again."

"Dream on, Blake."

 

***

 

It was the tiebreaker elimination round and first one to 5 points won. As it stood, they were tied at 3 and Rick was definitely annoyed. Honestly, he should get someone else to moderate this if he hated it so much. The game was supposed to end twenty minutes ago but neither Clarke nor Bellamy was giving an inch.

"Which explorer was the first European to sail to India, in 1497, and what country was he from?"

She scrambled to hit the buzzer but Bellamy got to his first, proclaiming, "Da Gama, Portugal," and smiling serenely at her immediately after. She itched to tear that smile off.

"Why are there so many history questions?" She complained.

"Maybe Bellamy rigged it," Wick suggested. Clarke glared at him.

"He wouldn't do that. We like fair games." Wick raised his hands in surrender.

Rick awarded his team ( _BLAKE DOMINATION!!!!_ , Octavia's doing) the point and Clarke steeled herself for the next.

_4-3._

"Look _alive_ ," she hissed to her teammates, who were either texting or doing a crossword, in Wick's case. Clarke wondered why she was cursed with this life.

"That was a history question, not my specialty," Monty answered, not once looking up from his phone. Maybe she should impose a no-phones rule.

"I'm not exactly sure if you're really paying attention th –"

"How many numbers between 0 and 200 are divisible by both 6 and 8?" Clarke nudged Monty repeatedly and he glared at her before scribbling down some numbers. He hit the buzzer to answer seconds later.

"8," he said, and Rick nodded. Clarke raised her eyebrows in challenge at Bellamy, but he didn't react. She was losing her edge.

_4-4._

The next question would decide the winner.

"Name two wars that ended with a peace treaty signed in Paris."

She slammed down on the buzzer without thinking about the answer. When everyone turned to her to hear the answers, she froze, then recovered just as quickly, shouting out the one she knew for certain. "Revolutionary! And…" she paused, searching her brain for anything that stuck during her history classes, "Crimean?" If it was right, then she'd never talk shit about Russian history ever again. (It was still a pain in the ass though.)

Rick scanned his notecard for the longest minute while Clarke held her breath.

"Correct. Also would've accepted French and Indian War, Spanish-American, Napoleonic, shit why are there so many treaties in Paris –" She had stopped listening after he had said she was correct (thank you Professor Shalev) and waited for Rick to declare the winner, which he did after his long rant about treaties set in Paris. (For the record, she agreed with him.)

Bellamy appeared by her side soon after, his arms crossed. "You totally didn't know that."

"I got it right, didn't I?"

"You paused!"

"Pausing isn't against the rules. I still said the right answer. And now we're tied."

"Not for long," he said, pulling her up from her chair and leading her to the bar.

"You're such a sore loser," she commented and he made a face at her, one that she replicated.

"Like you have any room to talk." Fine, that was possibly true. She punched his arm instead of agreeing. It was still trivia night, after all, and their rules stated she had no reason to agree then.

Bellamy tried to get the bartender's attention, but he told them he'd be back in a second. Turning back to her, he had an apologetic look on his face. "So, bad news."

She frowned. "What is it?"

"Turns out I have to proctor a final exam during your show." She opened her mouth to speak but he continued. "I mean, it starts before your show does, but I don't know if I'll be able to make it in time. I'm obviously going to try, but –"

"Bellamy," she interrupted. He looked so upset about maybe having to miss some show she had to put on for class and she always knew he was supportive and hated not being able to be everywhere at once, so this was just so classic Bellamy.

"It's not a problem. Don't rush those exams, that's more important –"

"This is important to you, right?"

"Yeah, I guess, it's a big part of my grade but seriously –"

"I'll be there," he said, a familiar determination on her face and in his voice. She looked at him, felt a warmth in her chest, her mouth quirking up into a smile.

"All right," she conceded and sidled closer to him so she could give him a side hug. He fit himself against her immediately, squeezing her shoulder.

She was in the middle of telling him about her day when he grabbed her wrist, the one with her father's watch on it, and cursed. "Shit, I have tutoring in ten minutes."

She frowned. He hadn't said anything about leaving so soon. They always spent trivia night together and making threats about victories that they never meant. "This late?"

"It was the only time he was able to fit it in and, don't tell him but he really needs it."

"You should've let me know earlier."

"Clarke," he said and no matter how many times he said her name, it always sounded the best from his mouth. "I will see you tomorrow after work. I'll even bring by some food."

She cheered up slightly. "Okay."

"See, I knew you only befriended me because I have food connections. Walk me to the door?"

"I guess I can, you big baby," she teased, looping her arm through his. "Teach him well and try not to spend too much time stewing upon my _victory_ today."

He laughed and kissed her cheek, "You just got lucky, that's all."

"That's what they all say," she said. Her cheeks felt warm. "Now go, don't be late." Bellamy saluted her before he left and she stood by the door, watched him walk down the street.

Someone threw an arm around her shoulder; it was Monty. "Hate to see them go, love to watch them leave, right?"

"Go flirt with Miller," she groaned into his shoulder. He laughed loudly and maneuvered her to their table and she had fun and everything, but it didn't feel right without Bellamy there too.

 

***

 

"All I'm saying is that if you try to seduce Monty into giving away our team's secrets, I will find you and destroy you." Clarke said loudly, subjecting Miller to her best menacing look who looked a bit perturbed, which was her intention. She was happy for him and Monty, but she had priorities too.

"Uh," Miller said unhelpfully. He looked at Bellamy, who was coming from the kitchen and eating a sandwich, for assistance. He dropped beside her on the floor, offering the sandwich to her. She declined – ham was so bland. She had tried to educate Bellamy on the evils of it, but he never believed her.

"What do you think I'm teaching them?" Bellamy asked her.

"I'm not saying you're trying to teach them manipulation, but they could get _ideas_ ," she said. She'd seen it in movies before. It wasn't impossible.

"I promise, no ideas here," Miller said quickly, accompanying his statement with an enthusiastic shake of his head. She studied him for a second and when she was assured that he was telling the truth, she smiled at him. He looked even more thrown off by the change in demeanor.

Bellamy sighed, "Please stop intimidating my friends."

"I'm not! I'm having a _heart to heart_ with a _mutual_ friend and ascertaining his good intentions," she corrected him. Miller opened his mouth to object.

"Clarke, I appreciate the concern?" She didn't know why he was questioning it, but whatever. "But you know I don't really care that much about trivia night, right? So I have no plans to get any kind of information from Monty."

She nodded slowly, then held out her hand to him. Despite his obvious confusion, he reached out his hand too, and she clasped it. "Promise?"

"I promise," he said monotonously.

"Be good to him too," she added, because that was the most important part. See, she knew that. That was really the point of the whole talk anyways.

"Scout's honor," he promised with the salute. Satisfied, Clarke sat back and grabbed the sandwich out of Bellamy's hand, took a bite of it, and then regretted it when she remembered it was ham. She made a big show of swallowing it painfully. Bellamy spared her a pitying look before snatching the sandwich back and finishing it.

Miller turned on the tv and sunk back into the armchair. "I can't believe you came all the way over here to accuse me of something I don't care about doing," he said as he settled on SportsCenter.

"It's like a ten minute walk," she pointed out. Eight on a good day. "And don't flatter yourself, _Nathan_ , I have actual work to do." To prove her point, she lugged a stack of files out of her bag and dropped them onto the floor with a dramatic flourish. Going through the profiles of potential artists to include was way more time consuming than she wanted. At least she now knew she never wanted to curate art shows.

Miller was absorbed in one of the CSIs and Bellamy was grading something for the class he was a TA in and tapping his fingers to the beat of the theme song when she finally got through half the stack.

"Hey," she said, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Bellamy said, barely looking up.

"Three _Emma_ adaptations, go."

He listed them off in succession, " _Clueless_ , the BBC one, that one webseries."

"And the name of that is?"

He let out a heavy sigh, then begrudgingly answered, " _Emma Approved_ ," like she didn't already know that he had watched it and loved it. She grinned at him and he grinned back, albeit more reluctantly.

"First female gymnast to get a perfect 10 at the Olympics."

"Give me a _hard_ one, I've seen her movie. Nadia Comaneci. How many bones are there in the wrist?"

"That's not fair, you know all the bones in the body," he complained but she didn't give in.

"You're never going to beat me if you don't know the stuff I know so –"

"So!" Miller said suddenly, standing up and shaking his head at them. "I"m going to bed now –"

"It's 9:24," she said. Not that there was anything wrong with going to bed early but this was really early for him.

"I figure it's the best way to get out of this whole third wheel thing," Miller explained, tossing the remote at Bellamy, who sputtered as he caught it. She pursed her lips but knew she was starting to blush.

"We're just going over trivia stuff," she muttered.

"Just trust me, I'm helping you out." With that, he cloistered himself in his room, leaving her and Bellamy sitting there in silence.

Finally, Bellamy mumbled something, his head ducked down to look at the papers in front of him.

Clarke stared at the profiles, the words blurring together so that it hardly made any sense, until she could think about what to say.

She was on her eighteenth file when she said, "There's eight."

Bellamy looked up. "Eight?"

"Bones in the wrist."

The corner of his mouth twitched up. "You're giving away your secrets."

She doubted he needed to try hard for that to happen. "Just want to beat you on an even playing field."

"Oh, Clarke," he crooned, kicking out his legs so that they stretched out beside hers. "Don't be so sure. I think my luck's changing."

She took his pen from him and drew devil horns on his ankle.

 

***

 

His luck _did_ change because he won the next trivia night by a narrow margin and she refused to speak to him for an hour, which mostly consisted of her sending him drinks that she knew he'd hate and him giving her his best disapproving face.

 

***

 

"It's Zayn."

"How do you even know that?!"

"Octavia is a –"

"You can't just use me as an excuse for all the things you know already but don't want people to know you know," Octavia said, without looking up from her magazine.

"Don't listen to her," Bellamy advised, but Clarke had already jumped from the counter and gone over to the booth Octavia was occupying.

"Please tell me more," she said, tried not to sound like she was begging, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Octavia lowered her magazine, looked at her, then at Bellamy. "What will I get out of it?" She heard Bellamy's offended scoff behind her.

"Eternal gratitude?" Clarke offered because she wasn't sure what she could give her. Octavia contemplated it but she could see that it wasn't going to work. "A signed piece from the art show? Wait, are you coming to that?"

"Duh, I wouldn't miss it. But I don't really want one, sorry." Clarke shrugged. Since nothing was working, she had to go with the trump card. "I will tell you about what really happened last Christmas Eve."

Her eyes lit up instantly and Bellamy groaned. "Deal! You can't back out, Clarke, or I'll never forgive you."

"I don't break deals!"

Bellamy appeared behind her, tugged on her braid lightly. "Betrayed by my only sister and best friend. Howe else can they bother me at work?"

She tilted her head back to look up at him, smiling her best smile. Though his mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes softened a little. "You're always complaining about being bored here," she said.

"How I long for the days of old," he responded, but signaled for her to follow him back to the counter. Once she was sat in her regular seat (she wanted it to have her name, but Bellamy rejected the idea), he pushed a bowl of soup in front of her.

"What's this?" She asked.

"Soup, what do you think it is?"

"I _know_ that, I meant –"

"Just try it."

She looked at him warily, then looked at the soup warily. Bellamy probably wasn't trying to poison her or anything so she picked up the spoon and brought a spoonful to her mouth, making a big show out of blowing on it before she tasted it. It was amazing, even if it was still a bit hot, but there was something familiar about it like she had tasted it before.

"It's the same one as you had a few weeks ago, remember you said that it was missing something – well I was testing it out yesterday and I think it was missing oregano," he explained, looking a bit bashful at talking about the work he had done. She couldn't help but smile, ducking down to have another taste so that he couldn't see how big the smile was. She didn't know why it always caught her off guard because it wasn't a thing she should be surprised about by now, knowing Bellamy and his attentiveness, his constant desire to make people happy, even if it was just with soup. But he had listened to her one off-hand comment about this soup and decided to fix it and wanted her to try it out.

"It's great," she said emphatically. "Here, have a taste yourself –" He leaned forward as she brought the spoon to his open mouth, congratulating herself on her steady hand as she did so.

"I've outdone myself," he said jokingly and she shook her head fondly at him.

"This may be your calling."

"What's his calling?" Octavia said, draping her arm around her shoulders and leaning in to smell the soup. "Ooh, this looks good, get me a spoon, Bell." Bellamy obliged and waited for his sister's deliberation. "My brother, the soup maker."  
  
Bellamy rolled his eyes but ruffled Octavia's hair, much to her displeasure. Clarke watched them bicker for a few minutes, smiling to herself at the sight of it. One of the best Bellamys was the carefree one.   
  
"What are you smiling at?" He cut in and she blinked, shifting her attention onto him.   
  
"Nothing," she lied and as if he knew (because he probably did), he gave her a knowing look. She squeezed his forearm and said, "Really, nothing. Get back to work."   
  
His frown disappeared but he grumbled, "You guys were the ones who interrupted anyways."   
  
"And now I'm letting you get back to the grind," she pointed out, dropping down from the chair and tugging her bag over her head.   
  
"Work?" He asked. "Thought you had a half day today."   
  
"I did, but some people have to attend meetings with professors to discuss their show selections," which all in all, was much less fun than bothering Bellamy. For one thing, he actually reacted to her. Professor Wallace was just creepy at worst and unhelpful at best.   
  
"Try to put the one you did of me in it," he suggested with a satisfied smirk.   
  
"That was _one time_! And no!" Seriously, she had accidentally left a drawing of him among some other papers she had been trying to organize on his table and given her luck, of course he had seen it and loved it (flattering, but still embarrassing). Clarke waved a hand behind her as a goodbye as she opened the door. She heard him shout "Bye!" and Octavia asking with the gossiping curiosity that followed her, "She drew you?" before the door closed.

 

***

 

Clarke dropped a sheet of paper on Bellamy's face before jumping back onto the couch and laying across on it so Miller had no choice but to sprawl across the floor. She was over at their place again because Raven and Wick were otherwise preoccupied at hers and there was only so much one can ignore with them. Plus, she always found it easier to concentrate at Bellamy's. It helped her finish the last minute preparations in record time, allowing her to just relax the rest of the night. The weeks she thought she had left until the show had dwindled down quickly; she could hardly believe it would be happening in two days. Thank god, honestly.

"It's the championship registration," she explained while he skimmed it.

"Thanks, I was gonna pick it up today after work, but I forgot," he said, folding the paper and setting it on the table.

She gave him a thumbs up and closed her eyes, only to be hit in the stomach with a pillow. "Hey!"

"Sorry," he said, sound very not at all sorry, "it slipped." She attempted to throw the pillow back at him, but it was hard when she was lying down and not making eye contact. It fell and hit Miller.

"Keep me out of this!" He whined, clutching the pillow over his face. She apologized over his exaggerated complaints.

She turned to the side so that she could see Bellamy, who was absentmindedly typing on his laptop. "What are you naming your team this year?"

"Have Fun Losing, Clarke," he said, giving her the biggest shit-eating grin he could.

"I don't think they'll allow me to put down 'Go Fuck Yourself, Bellamy' again this year, so you might have to think of something else," she shot back, flipping onto her stomach and resting her head on her arms.

"You never know til you try," Miller contributed. "I say go for it."

"Thanks, man," Bellamy said dryly.

"You know what," she said, sitting up properly now and rummaging through her bag on the floor to find her registration and a pen. "I _will_ take that advice." Once she found them, she scribbled down an emphatic GO FUCK YOURSELF, BELLAMY in the team name space and then folded the sheet back up.

Bellamy crooked his finger at her to beckon her closer. She tried to ignore him but went over there anyways.

"Yes?" she asked when she was behind his chair, leaning her chin on the top of the back so she could peer down at the top of his head. He looked up at her with the corners of his eyes crinkling and a glint in them. This close to his face, she could see each one of his freckles, the scar on his upper lip in detail, and the perfect bow of his lips. She kept her eyes on his eyes instead.

"Remind me who won last year?" She tried really hard to keep her eyes trained away from the way his mouth was moving.

Begrudgingly, Clarke bit out a, "You."

"And the year before? Who was that?"

"You." That one, wasn't fair, though, because she had been competing that year with just a half team. It should be enough to be disqualified from record.

"So should I go with 'Threepeat' instead? That sounds good, doesn't it? Three time champion of –"

"Of the Dropship's Trivia Competition," Miller finished, with a spectacular roll of his eyes. "You don't even get a plaque or anything."

Both she and Bellamy looked down at Miller; she had forgotten he was there for a second. "We don't do it for a plaque," Clarke defended.

"Bragging rights and getting to beat Clarke in something is what I do it for," Bellamy added and she nodded until she realized what he had said and poked his cheek as revenge. He tugged her ear in retaliation.

"Don't listen to him, Miller. He's full of shit." She shoved him lightly so that she could sit on the arm of the armchair. He grunted but moved over to make room.

"I'll be honest, I hardly listen to either of you," Miller said lazily. He got another pillow in the face.

 

***

 

She was in her nicest blouse and skirt combo and best professional heels and if she got anything less than an A on this, she might kill Professor Wallace. Joking. Kinda. She had put in way too much work into this, had been running around all night to handle every minor disaster that sprung up, and she still couldn't read whether her professor liked her exhibition or not.

At least all the artists she had gotten to agree to show their work for the night were really nice and kept telling her she was doing a good job. It did help her mood throughout the night. And her friends had filed in and out over the two hours she had been there, appropriately admiring of the set up and the artwork as well as bringing her food so she wouldn't starve to death. Bellamy had wished her luck before he had left for his exam, a regretful look etched on his face, but she had sent him off with a slap of his ass and a stern, "Don't worry about it." He looked scandalized and she laughed him all the way out the door.

"This is actually pretty cool," Raven said as she peered at the painting in front of her.

"Actually, huh?" Clarke teased, knocking her hip against hers.

"I'm just glad you didn't choose some of those weirder pieces you were showing me. I'm sure they're very popular for art reasons but –"

"Yeah, Jekely was the first one off the consideration list," she said in a low whisper, bending her head down so no one would be able to catch it. "He got picked up by someone else in the class though so I don't feel bad. That bad."

"You and your soft heart," Raven said and they both burst into laughter, quieting down only when the people around them were looking at them weirdly. They moved onto the next painting, both of them tilting their heads in contemplation (she suspected Raven was only pretending but Clarke was at least 70% interested).

"The boyfriend stop by yet?" Raven asked nonchalantly and Clarke sighed.

"You're _hilarious_ but _Bellamy_ is busy," she answered, not bothering to correct her because Raven would just get that knowing look she sometimes got on her face and still think she was right even if Clarke had objected. "Besides, you know I only need your opinion on art. You're always so good about it. What'd you say about that first one we saw? _Is that a fucking camel_?"

"In my defense, it had humps!"

"They were _hills_ , it was literally titled _On the Hills We Run_!" Raven scowled and crossed her arms.

"Not any hills _I've_ seen," she mumbled. Clarke started to laugh until she caught Professor Wallace's eye, which made her cut off her laugh into an aborted cough.

"Disperse, disperse! I have to work now," she hissed and Raven saluted her, telling her to be home tonight for their monthly HGTV binge watching night, before grabbing Wick, who was standing by the drinks excitedly chatting up another one of her professors in her department, and leaving. Clarke coughed and straightened her skirt for the fifth time that night and started making the rounds again.

Her third time around the room, Bellamy appeared by the door, facing away from the entrance and running his hand over his hair over and over in what she assumed was his attempt to fix it. She blinked a couple of times, wondering if it was really him. He turned around, spotted her instantly, and she exhaled. She walked over to him quickly, after a brief glance at Professor Wallace to check that he was preoccupied, and he met her halfway.

The well-worn blue shirt he had worn when he left to proctor the exam was now replaced with a slightly wrinkled, white dress shirt, and if she looked closer, she'd see that he had even ironed his slacks. She ran her eyes over his frame, then realized that he was speaking. "Hey, hey, Clarke, I'm so sorry I'm late," he said in a rush, picking at his half rolled up sleeve. He was slightly out of breath (had he actually rushed over), his hair was just-tamed, half-heartedly successful, he kept saying _I'm sorry_ but she couldn't hear it at all.

"– I guess the exam was a lot harder than they expected because nearly everyone stayed the whole time and by the time I went to turn in all the exams to the office, it was getting really late and I had forgotten to bring this shirt with me, so I had to go home and get it," he was explaining, exasperated and annoyed at himself, and she couldn't help but smile at this dumb boy, her best friend, who had been told repeatedly that it was _okay_ to not make it because he had a _legitimate conflict_ but was still apologizing for something out of his control, and he had _rushed here_ so he could make the last hour and he looked beautiful and wonderful and he _was_ beautiful and wonderful and so supportive and –

"Bellamy," she breathed. He stopped speaking, looked at her in confusion. "Oh my god," she said, louder this time, and she grabbed his face between her hands and stared at him. Bellamy blinked twice, choked out her name, followed it with a question that she didn't catch because she had pulled his face down towards her, kissing him right then and there, not caring who could see or if Wallace would fail her on the spot, just kissed him like she wanted, needed to. When he kissed her back, after the longest three seconds of her life, he kissed her back like he meant it, like it was all he had wanted to do for a long time and she thought, _Me too_.

"Oh my god," she murmured against his lips. "I love you. I love you." The second one was to test the sound of it from her mouth and she liked it. It felt like it belonged there, felt like they were words that she should've been saying to him all along, like this, with this feeling.

He pulled back. "Oh," he said, dumbly.

"Excellent response."

He snapped out of it then, dipped his head down to kiss her again, but she turned her again, breathed out a laugh against his ear. "We're in public," she reminded him.

"I don't care," he said. "And you kissed me first."

"Yeah, because I love you and I thought –"

Bellamy pressed a short kiss along her jawline. "I think everyone knows that I love you, Clarke," he said and she tried to hide her grin against his shoulder, but gave up and looked up at him.

"Oh," she said, and he understood. She didn't care that they probably looked ridiculous with their matching wide grins. "Then you can kiss me again." He listened to her immediately, connecting their mouths again and she smiled into the kiss, wrapped her arms around his neck.

A polite _ahem_ sounded out behind her.

"Hi, Professor," she said through a wince, feeling her cheeks flush as she turned around to face him. Bellamy's hand drifted to her lower back, pressing against her blouse. She didn't know what to say except, "This is Bellamy Blake. He's in the history department."

Professor Wallace nodded his head at him and she heard Bellamy stifle a laugh by turning it into a clearing of his throat. "Nice to meet you," Bellamy said politely.

"You only have one more hour of this, Ms. Griffin," Wallace said and she nodded swiftly until he walked away, at which point she let out a huge sigh and leaned her head back against Bellamy's shoulder.

"You're so failing now," he said.

"Worth it," she proclaimed and he blushed, ducking down to kiss her forehead. She turned around, her hands automatically going to the lapels of his shirt. "Will you wait an hour until this is all over? You can walk around and look at everything, but it should be done really soon."

He covered her hands with his. "I did come to look around, you know."

"Then knock yourself out."

She thought about kissing him again but she just knew that Wallace was keeping an eye on them so she just tugged on his shirt, smoothed out her skirt for the sixth time, and hoped that she could make it through the whole time without pulling Bellamy aside and finding better ways to spend the hour.

 

***

 

The second she shook the last artist's hand and put back the last table, with Bellamy helping along with some of the other members of the art department, she pulled on Bellamy's hand and they walked to her car.

"I think that you've charmed my whole department already," she said as she leaned against her car.

He smirked. "Sorry, I just can't help it," he said. "If you want to know, they just wanted to talk about you so we had something in common."

"Shut up," she groaned. "Your lines are terrible." They were, but she still felt a small flutter in her heart when he said it. Stupid heart.

"Yeah, but you _love_ me," he said smugly and she couldn't even deny it so she pulled him in for a kiss to shut him up. She would've started doing this months ago had she known how successful it was at getting him to lose his train of thought.

He laid his forehead against hers when they stopped kissing and she closed her eyes. She felt him trace her lips with his thumb a second later. "Did I tell you I loved your show? You really outdid yourself. Even your plans had nothing on this."

She pushed at his chest gently, not in a way to make him actually get away from her. "Thank you," she said. "It was nice."

"All right, I know that's the best I'll get out of you."

" _Thank you_." He kissed her again and she had no problems with kissing after every word if that was what he wanted. They really should've done this a long time ago.

"Hey," he said as he ghosted his lips over hers. "Have I told you you look really good in that skirt?" She shook her head, leaning forward slightly to press her lips against his again.

"You didn't do very well on that front," she murmured.

"I'll rectify it immediately. You look great in that skirt. And in that shirt. With your hair like that," he tugged slightly on the twist her hair was in, so that blonde strands started falling out of its clasp. "With you knowing but not admitting that you did way better on your exhibition than your professor had thought you would." He pulled on her bottom lip gently and she almost let out a whimper.

"We're in public," she whispered, even though no one was around and their cars were the only ones in the parking lot still, and she wasn't sure it was actually a complaint.

He listened anyways. "Okay," he said, relenting and pecking her again before pulling back. "Are you busy tonight?"

She almost said no and then she remembered that she was supposed to be home already because she had promised Raven. And she'd probably kill her if she didn't tell her immediately about tonight. She probably should've told her an hour ago. "It's HGTV night," she said and he nodded, laughing. Bellamy knew all about their unwilling obsession.

"My timing sucks, doesn't it?"

She played with the buttons on his shirt, sighing. "We both have terrible timing. But I'll see you tomorrow, definitely."

"Okay. Definitely," he said, with promise in his voice. She tapped her fingers against her door.

"I guess I should go."

"And I should too," he added, but neither of them made any move to go. Finally, she unlocked her car and the sound forced them to move. He backed away so that she could open the door and she got inside, keeping her eyes on him through the window as she closed it. She was putting on her seatbelt when he knocked against the glass.

She rolled the window all the way down. "What's up?"

He leaned in, resting his arms on the frame. "There's this uh, awards thing – I got this funding I applied for so I have to go and uh, I asked Miller for fun but –"

"Are you asking me to go to this thing because Miller turned you down first?"

"No!" He was quick to say. "Well, it _sounds_ like that, I mean, kinda, but – look, I'd much rather go with you, I would've asked you anyways as friends, but then you kissed me so I thought maybe you'd like to go as a _real_ date –" Bellamy kept stumbling on his words and she wanted to remind him that they had kissed twice in front of all the faculty members in the art department already so he really had nothing to worry about, but it was cute and he was cute and she loved him.

"Of course I'll go with you," she said. "It's important to you, right?"

"Yeah? Yeah."

"Then I'll be there with you." He caught her in a quick surprise kiss, pulling back before she could deepen it.

"Okay. Good. That's good," he said. "I'll let you go now."

"Okay." She shook her head at him in amusement. "Get back to your car so I don't accidentally run you over.

"You are ruthless," he said but he waved at her as he walked backwards. She giggled when he stumbled and couldn't contain her sigh of happiness when she drove home.

 

***

 

When she got home, she hoped that it was late enough that Wick was gone by now. Because she was just that lucky, she caught him getting a glass of water from the kitchen. At least he had a shirt on this time.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, because even though Raven had been dating him for a few months, she and Wick weren't especially close.

"Hey, uh, I liked your art thing, your art show."

"Thanks for coming," she said sincerely and he nodded at her.

Raven appeared from her room, waved at her, and said, "Hey, babe. Don't worry, Wick was leaving." She jerked her head at Wick as if to tell him so. To his credit, he understood and kissed Raven on the cheek, yelling a "Nice seeing you, Clarke!" as he left.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, slightly entertained.

"He was overstaying his welcome."

"Oh, right," she said, like it made perfect sense to her.

Raven sat on the couch, tossing her the remote. Thankfully, Clarke had fairly good reflexes. "You pick first."

"You know I'm picking House Hunters," she said, because she hated it but she loved to watch it.

"Perfect," Raven declared. "I'm in the mood to yell at them." Clarke settled next to her and dropped her head onto her shoulder.

Three episodes later, they had brought out the wine and Raven had decided they should apply for the show. Clarke gently rejected the idea.

"Hey, guess what?" She said, as they began the fourth episode.

"What," Raven answered.

"Bellamy and I are dating now, I think."

Raven grabbed the remote from her hand and muted the show. "Seriously? I leave and that happens? Wait, you couldn't have _led_ with that?"

"This isn't a mutable thing," she said, trying to take the remote from her. "I mean, I think. We did the whole confession of love thing before he actually asked me out but I think it's a real date."

"There's so much in that that we will have to talk about in the morning, but seriously, _finally_ ," Raven sang out the last word and then unmuted House Hunters. "It's taken you guys long enough."

She wanted to protest but as she thought about it, she was right. "Better late than never, right?"

"Did you know there was a plan to lock you guys in a room together?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What would that do? We spend all our time together anyways."

"That's what I said!" Raven said. At least there was someone sensible on her side.

"We would've gotten there eventually," she said because she knew that as a fact. She couldn't imagine it otherwise.

"Thank god for that," Raven said, clinking her wine glass against hers.

 

**

 

Bellamy called her later that night when she was falling asleep and she fumbled around for her phone until she found it.

 

"Hi," she said sleepily, a little muffled by the fact that her face was buried against her pillow.

"Shit, sorry," he said. "I'll just talk to you tomorrow."

She flipped around so that she could speak more clearly. "No, I'm good. I'm up. I'm listening," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"No, really –"

"Bellamy," she said firmly. "You already woke me up. What's up?"

There was a rustling on his end and finally he spoke, a bit hesitantly, stuttering a bit. "I wanted to ask you first, to that awards ceremony thing, you know that, right?"

Clarke tried not to, but she laughed, trying to muffle it into the pillow.

"It's a _valid_ question, Clarke," Bellamy interjected and she could just picture the crease between his eyebrows.

She loved this guy. "Yes. Even though Miller got the first call, I think I'm pretty clear on your feelings."

He sounded like he had let out a breath, like he felt much lighter. "Okay. Great. You can go back to sleep now."

"I'm glad I could soothe your mind," she said dryly, but it was cute that he had clearly been thinking about it and couldn't not ask. She wished that she could see his face so that she could see if he looked as flustered as he sounded.

"You always do that well," he said and he was teasing but it still sounded sincere. She smiled.

"Don't think this means I'll go easy on you on Wednesday."

"You wouldn't be you if you did."

 

***

 

Dating Bellamy Blake was a lot like normal doing anything she had already done with Bellamy Blake.

(Well, whenever she visited Great Soup!, they ended up making out in the employees-only room during his break a lot more than before, and it made her really regret that they hadn't done it before now, but aside from that, nothing much changed.)

  
  
 

"Wait, wait," Bellamy was saying, which was kind of insulting since she was clearly trying to make him stop talking. She doubled down on her efforts and he groaned low in this throat, making her smile against his neck.

"What," she mumbled, pressing a kiss along his collarbone.

"I had something to ask," he said, with difficulty. But instead of asking whatever he was going to, his hand slid up under her shirt, caressing her back and pressing her closer to him. He ducked his head down to mouth at the top of her sternum and when had he unbuttoned her shirt and she arched against him. She finally registered he was saying something into her skin after a few words.

"What," she said breathlessly and he pulled back, smirking at her.

"Can I introduce you as my girlfriend? When we go to the awards ceremony," he said and she gaped at him, just dropped her mouth open and slapped his chest. He was going to be the death of her.

"No, I'd much rather you introduce me as the girl you sometimes make out with and have gone on ten million dates with," she deadpanned and he laughed against her throat.

"I can do that too," he clarified, moving up to kiss the spot on the side of her neck where she was sensitive.

She gasped into his ear and curled her fingers into his hair. "I hate you," she groaned.

He just laughed. Asshole.

 

***

 

"Blake."

"Griffin."

"Good luck today. You'll need it."

"You stole my line."

"I'll also be stealing your vict –" She was cut off by his lips on hers and she scowled through her blush as their friends whistled and hollered. "We said no tricks!"

"Not a trick," Bellamy said, grinning at her. "Just wanted to kiss you."

She rolled her eyes and bit down on her smile. Someday, his lines wouldn't work on her but that day was not now. She was a weak, weak woman.

"Get back to your side," she ordered.

"All right, all right, I'm going –" she caught his wrist at the last second, whirling him back towards her. He had about a second of surprise before she pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him hard, pulling on his bottom lip and tugging him closer. He responded quickly, after the initial shock, and kissed her back but before he could get any further, she pulled back, smoothed down his shirt where she had crumpled it in her hands, and patted his chest.

"Good luck!" She said brightly, turning on her heel to get back to her seat.

"Not fair!" Bellamy yelled hoarsely behind her.

She slipped into her seat next to Monty.

"Like he's going to be focusing on the questions after that kiss," Monty said through his laughter.

"That was my plan," she confided, sneaking a look at Bellamy, who still looked a bit dazed and well-kissed as Octavia rubbed his back while laughing as well.

"I'm a little scared of you, Clarke," but rather than an admonishment, Monty was proud, holding out his hand to high five. She slapped her hand against his.

"All's fair in love and war," she said smugly.

"And trivia?"

"I've heard that too."

She caught Bellamy's eye a minute later and he was trying to sustain a glare. She blew a kiss at him.

 

***

 

In retrospect, _Go Fuck Yourself, Bellamy_ probably wasn't the best name to be recorded down on the trivia championship winners list, but by the time they had written it down, she had already convinced Rick to let her and Bellamy make out in the supply closet and Bellamy really had no complaints after that.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [**bestivals**](http://bestivals.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I rewrote part of this fic TWICE because nothing was working (I might post the alternate versions of some scenes even though I don't like them compared to the final version) but finally, I figured out something that worked. I am stuck in the library for the worst finals week I have ever had so I would really love any feedback/comments/distractions to save me. Eventually, I will probably (TRY TO) write a canon thing, but that is not today. SORRY FOR RAMBLING, YOU CAN IGNORE ALL THIS.


End file.
